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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28537485">love made visible</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/featherpluckn/pseuds/featherpluckn'>featherpluckn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Doctor Blake Mysteries</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:26:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,286</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28537485</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/featherpluckn/pseuds/featherpluckn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean finds the perfect birthday gift for Lucien.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jean Beazley/Lucien Blake</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>love made visible</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was written for third day of Jeanuary 2021. The prompt for the day was "Recipe".</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jean was having quite a difficult time figuring out a birthday present for Lucien. She already picked out a new fountain pen to replace his favorite one he had misplaced. However, it did not seem like enough. They had spent several of their birthdays together at this point, but this would be the first one spent as husband and wife, and she was determined to make it special. </p>
<p>Two weeks before the big day, she was no closer to an answer. However, as she sat at the kitchen table that morning sipping her tea, a worn book on the opposite counter caught her eye. Jean and Lucien found a box of his mother’s kitchen things when they were cleaning out the studio before their wedding. She was fascinated by the book because it contained recipes written in French, and according to Lucien they were not in Genevieve’s hand. It was clearly something she had brought with her from France, a cherished possession passed down to her by a loving family member. </p>
<p>Crossing the kitchen, she took the book and flipped through it. There were pages and pages filled with looping script, and splattered with the remnants of sauce from forgotten meals. There were little notes in the margins made by a slanted, more harried hand. Just as she was pondering if the notes were written by Genevieve herself, she came across a recipe for something called <i>tarte tatin</i> that had <i>Lucien</i> scrawled next to it with a little heart. </p>
<p>Jean decided at once that she absolutely had to make this for Lucien on his birthday. There was the sticky matter of the recipe being written entirely in French, but that could easily be fixed by calling in a favor from the French teacher at the local school. </p>
<p>The morning of Lucien’s birthday started much earlier than she anticipated. At her suggestion, he had kept his schedule free that day. No patients and no pressing police concerns, made her think he would take the opportunity to sleep as long as possible, but the sun had barely started to warm her face when she felt his kisses along her shoulder. She smiled and turned her face up towards his, “Happy birthday, my love.” </p>
<p>She kissed him passionately, hoping to convey with her tongue and her teeth just how she wanted to start celebrating immediately. He pulled back from her lips with a grin, “Well, it is now.” They spent most of the morning in bed after that, which was more than okay with Jean.</p>
<p>She did finally remove herself from his arms sometime before lunch. She had work to do after all, and Lucien had made plans to have lunch with Matthew at the club. So, after a lingering kiss and a promise to return home for dinner he left, and Jean set to work. </p>
<p>She had the foresight to make the pastry the day before to save some time, but there were apples to peel and core and quarter, and caramel to make to coat them all. Once the apples were cooked and cooled a little, she arranged them in a pretty pattern and covered the whole thing with the pastry. It smelled marvelous while cooking, and she was looking forward to tasting it almost as much as Lucien’s reaction. </p>
<p>The tart had just been flipped onto a cake stand and sat it on the windowsill to cool, when Lucien came through the front door singing boisterously. The boys must have had quite the time then. She met him in the hallway where she had just enough time to take in his pink cheeks, before he pulled her into his embrace and whispered, “Dance with me.”</p>
<p>She still had his favorite dinner to make, but he was very persuasive. The two of them ended up dancing for much longer than she anticipated, his hands getting bolder with every song until he stopped singing altogether, his mouth instead occupied with kissing her breathless. </p>
<p>It didn’t take much after that to get their clothes off, for Lucien to pull Jean down onto the couch, to make her writhe with his fingers and his mouth, for Jean to climb into his lap and use her legs still trembling from his attention to bring them both to bliss. </p>
<p>As she came back to reality, Jean realized how dark it had gotten outside. She chanced a glance at her watch which confirmed her suspicions, “I was going to make you a lamb roast tonight, but you distracted me.”</p>
<p>Unsurprisingly, even after they both were sated, his mouth was still at her breast. So, she felt the huff of his laughter and his wide smile before he replied, “I’m sorry, my darling.”</p>
<p>When he looked up at her with that all too familiar, mischievous sparkle in his eye, she caught his chin in her hand, “Lucien Blake, you don’t seem one bit sorry. But, I do have dessert made, if you’re interested?”</p>
<p>It was a silly question really. Her husband was always ready for something sweet. So, they dressed quickly and made their way to the kitchen. Jean felt it was best to explain their dessert as she went, “Remember your mother’s recipe book we found when we were clearing out the studio? Well, I was flipping through it the other day and found a recipe with your name written next to it. Mr. Williams at the school was nice enough to transcribe it for me. I’m not sure how it turned out, but I hope you like it.”</p>
<p>She reached for the tart on the windowsill. She could hear him behind her setting the table going on about how he was sure it would taste wonderful, but when she turned with their dessert in her hands he stopped talking. There was a small, sad smile on his face and maybe a few tears gathering in his eyes when he asked, “Is that <i>tarte tatin</i>?”</p>
<p>His reaction had not been at all what Jean had been expecting. It threw her for quite the loop to see him with his hand smoothing down the curls at the back of his head, as he tended to do when he was overwhelmed. Maybe the sight of her gift had brought up memories he would rather forget? Maybe she should have thought everything through a little more? It was too late now, the thing was made and even though she couldn’t bring herself to quite speak at the moment she nodded her head. </p>
<p>Jean didn’t even realize he was still holding the silverware in his hand until he laid it down on the table and started making his way towards her, “Maman used to make that for my birthday every year.”</p>
<p>That revelation served to take Jean’s breath away, “<i>Oh</i>. Lucien, I had no idea.” It was a coincidence that she had stumbled on that particular recipe, but it seemed to have been the right choice because his earlier tumult of emotions had settled, and he looked rather pleased as he took the cake stand from her hand.   </p>
<p>“It smells just as good as I remember.”</p>
<p>“So, you’re pleased then?”</p>
<p>He sat the <i>tarte tatin</i> carefully down on the counter behind her before he wrapped her in his arms. She couldn’t help the way her hands instinctively cradled his face when he rested his forehead against hers. She felt a tear hit her thumb right before he answered, “This has been the most wonderful birthday I’ve had in a long time. I love it, Jeannie. I love <i>you</i>.”</p>
<p>Jean could taste the salt of her own tears when she pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, whispering against his lips, “I love you too, Lucien. Happy birthday.”</p>
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